Coup de foudre?

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They call it 'Coup de Foudre' — Love at First Sight.


The thunderbolt.
 That split second when your world stops spinning, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

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Coup de Foudre

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"Love at first sight — or just dopamine dressed as destiny?"

 

They call it 'Coup de Foudre' — love at first sight.
A lightning strike. The thunderbolt.

Your heartbeat skips, your stomach flips, and suddenly you’re high on something no drug can compete with.

That split second when your world stops spinning, and suddenly, everything makes sense.

Or so you think.

 

Because that spark - that dizzy, heart-racing, dopamine-driven rush - is the world’s most addictive illusion.
It’s the one song every songwriter keeps rewriting, the one scene every movie romanticizes, the one high every human secretly craves.
We call it love, but really - it’s chemistry on steroids?

 

Butterflies in your stomach.
The sleepless nights.
That look in someone’s eyes that feels like recognition.
And yes - that stupid, permanent smile you can’t wipe off your face.
It feels divine.

A cocktail of hormones and illusions that blinds us just long enough to project our wildest dreams onto a stranger.

 

We fall - not for who they are,
but for who we hope they might be.
The potential. The fantasy.
The version we write in our own heads.

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And when the high fades,
when the fog lifts,
when dopamine levels return to baseline -
what’s left?

The real person.
The habits, the silence, the small cracks that were always there, hidden behind the sparkle - no divinity.

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 “When the veil of hormones fades, only truth remains — and truth isn’t always pretty.”

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I’ve been watching Love is Blind lately - the experiment where people fall in love through a wall, by voice alone.
No faces, no bodies, just connection. 

That modern attempt to fall in love with the soul instead of the body.
Beautiful in theory.

And yet - even there, when the doors open,
the illusion shatters.
Because even when we remove the eyes,
the ego finds a way to see.

Because if  'Coup de Foudre' is an illusion of the eyes, Love is Blind is just an illusion of the heart.

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We say we want emotional connection.
But what we really want is confirmation - that the person on the other side fits our fantasy.
And when they don’t?
We call it disappointment.
But maybe it’s just the universe showing us the truth:
You were never in love with them — you were in love with your own projection.

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“We don’t fall for people. We fall for the potential we imagine they could be.”

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So tell me - how can we truly love a stranger?
Someone whose patterns, shadows, and truths we’ve never seen?
Real love can only exist when the masks drop - when every flaw, habit, and contradiction stands naked before you.
Not a compromise, not an illusion, but alignment.
Two souls who see each other - and stay.

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I once read a little book called 'The Seven Veils' — by Isabel Timmers (dutch edition)
It describes seven stages of connection:
From meeting in public — no touching, no kissing —
to private encounters, gentle gestures, a kiss on the cheek,
then a kiss on the lips,
intimacy, layer by layer, veil by veil.

Each stage intentional.
Each veil sacred.
Each step a conscious choice to move deeper — or stop.

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Because once you let someone enter your sacred temple too soon,
disconnecting becomes almost impossible.
Bodies bond before hearts are ready.

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If you ask me, each veil deserves at least a month.
That means seven months before you even consider the merging of bodies and souls.
Seven months of honesty. Curiosity. Observation.
No rush. No “what are we?” conversations.
Just energy speaking for itself.

 

I believe in brother-sister energy first.
The kind of connection where you learn each other’s rhythms without needing to possess.
Where friendship is the foundation, not the fallback.

The so-called 'friendzone' isn’t a death sentence - it’s often divine protection.
It means you’ve met a soul meant to walk beside you, not inside you.
And that’s something to cherish, not escape.​

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“If it’s truly love, it doesn’t rush.
It deepens.”

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Maybe 'Coup de Foudre' isn’t love at all.
Maybe it’s a mirror - showing us how desperately we want to believe.
Maybe it’s not lightning from heaven,
but a spark from our own unmet longing.

Because real love doesn’t come in lightning strikes.
It arrives softly - after you’ve seen each other’s storms,
and still choose to stay.

 

Because love isn’t a thunderstorm.
It’s the quiet after.
When the air is clear,
and the light stays - even when the electricity fades.

 

 “Coup de Foudre - the spark that ignites the illusion.
But love? Love is the fire that stays when the thunder fades.”

 

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